Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

stopped and asked me about it. I found I couldn’t say anything. There are things you don’t tell someone you’re still trying to impress. There are other things you don’t want to remember either. Panic tightened my throat.
    â€œShh,” he said. “Shh.” And he kissed me there, where he’d caused me to shy. It was a gentle, caring touch—almost passionless, and moved on to somewhere less ... tainted.
    But he was a good hunter. Adam isn’t patient by nature, but his training was very thorough. He worked his way back to the first bad spot and tried again.
    I still flinched ... but I told him a little. And like the wolf he was, he laved the wound in my soul, bandaging it with his care—and moved on to the next. He explored thoroughly, found each mental wound—and a few I didn’t know I had—and replaced them with other ... better things. And when passion began to grow too wild, too fast ...
    â€œSo,” he murmured, “are you ticklish here?”
    Yep. Who’d have known it? I looked at my inner elbow as if I’d never seen it before.
    He laughed, bounced over a little, and made a raspberry noise with his mouth on my belly. My knees jerked up in reflex, and I bopped him on the head with my elbow.
    â€œAre you all right?” I pulled away from him and sat up—all desire to laugh gone. Trust me to clobber Adam while we’re making out. Stupid, clumsy idiot, me.
    He took one look at my face, put both arms over his head, and rolled on his back, moaning in agony.
    â€œHey,” I said. And when he didn’t stop, I poked him in the side—I knew some of his ticklish spots, too. “Stop that. I didn’t hit you that hard.” He’d been taking lessons from Samuel.
    He opened one eye. “How would you know?”
    â€œYou have a hard head,” I informed him. “If I didn’t damage my elbow, I didn’t hurt your head.”
    â€œCome here,” he said opening his arms wide, eyes glittering with laughter ... and heat.
    I crawled over on top of him. We both closed our eyes for a bit while I made myself comfortable. He ran his hands over my back.
    â€œI love this,” he told me, a little breathless and yellow-eyed.
    â€œLove what?” I turned my head and put my ear on his chest so I could hear the pounding of his heart.
    â€œTouching you ...” He deliberately ran a hand over my bare butt. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”
    He dug in with his fingers. Tension from the night before had left me tight, and it felt good. I went limp, and if I could have purred, I would have.
    â€œSomeone looking at us might think we’re asleep,” I told him.
    â€œYou think so? Only if they don’t notice my pulse rate ... or yours.”
    He hit just the right spot, and I moaned.
    â€œJust like Medea,” he murmured. “All I have to do is put my hands on you. You can be spitting mad ... and then you lean against me and go all soft and still.” He put his mouth against my ear. “That’s how I know you want me as much as I want you.” His arms were tight around me, and I knew that I wasn’t the only one with wounds.
    â€œI don’t purr as well as Medea,” I told him.
    â€œAre you sure about that?”
    And he proceeded to show me what he meant. If I didn’t ever reach Medea’s volume, I came close. By the time he got down to business, there was no room in the inferno he’d made of me for fear or memory.
    There was only Adam.
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    THE NEXT TIME I WOKE UP I WAS SMILING I WAS ALONE in the bed, but that didn’t matter because I could hear Adam downstairs—he was talking to Jesse. Either they were making lunch—I checked the window shades—dinner, or someone was getting chopped into small bits.
    Soon I’d start worrying. But for now ... the vampires weren’t going to kill everyone I knew. They weren’t even going to kill me. The sun was up. And matters between Adam and me were right and tight.
    Mostly. We had a lot of things to talk about. For instance, did he want me to move in? For a night, it was wonderful. But his house wasn’t exactly private; any of his pack could be here on any given day.
    I liked my home, scruffy as it was. I liked having my own territory. And ... what about Samuel? I frowned. He was still ... not whole, and for some reason bunking at my house was helping.